


The Simple Act of Observing

by LisaVanDerMolen



Series: Bringing Ice To A Fire Fight [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, JonSa if you squint, More of a power fic, Sansa POV, Sansa observing all, literally very bad, spoilers for season 7 not major tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-03
Updated: 2017-09-03
Packaged: 2018-12-23 06:22:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11983992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LisaVanDerMolen/pseuds/LisaVanDerMolen
Summary: It didn't matter now, he had bend the knee. No matter how many times she tried to talk him out of seeking the Mother of Dragons, rightful heir to the iron throne. He didn't listen.





	The Simple Act of Observing

**Author's Note:**

> This is really bad I'm so sorry you have to suffer through this.

It didn't matter now, he had bend the knee. No matter how many times she tried to talk him out of seeking the Mother of Dragons, rightful heir to the iron throne. He didn't listen.

  
Whispers the wind carried through the seven kingdoms described her as a mad women, bend the knee or be burned alive. None of the options seemed pleasant to her.

  
The anger she felt at seeing ~~her~~ Jon in claws of a monster had to be contained deep inside her, it made her but twist and turn into strange angles. The pair had walked into Winterfell like they ruled the place.

  
‘ _A king and queen, foreigner queen, bastard King, fitting_ ,’ she thought bitterly to herself. Straightening her posture and fixing her blue eyes upon the people that would take the North away from her.

  
They weren't alone though, the _queen_ had three of her subjects with her. A tall _gorgeous_ women with black curls that reminded her of ebony wood being shaped into furniture, the way the wood would curl into perfect curls always had left her memorized. _Back to happier times._

  
A man that looked like a knight, his longing gaze burning holes into the queen’s back. The way he looked at Jon with resentment, made something inside her stir. _Perhaps an old lover?_

  
She blinked a couple of times, before she could actually believe her own eyes. There he stood, her former husband, the only one who had shown some kindness to her. In the darkest of times made her remember Winterfell, something she was ever so grateful for. Tyrion Lannister a dwarf unlike any noble men she had the pleasure of meeting.

  
When her eyes landed on the queen she could feel her breath hitch. The queen herself was a real beauty. The way her long light blonde hair fell over her shoulders made her think of the a snow storm waiting to happen. Her fair skin looking like it had never encountered any force, unlike hers. The way her violet eyes shone with power. _No wonder she has ~~Jon~~ the warden of the North wrapped around her finger, she's magnificent. A women with looks has a lot of power add in a set of brains and she's unstoppable._

  
The women with black curls spoke up once the group came to a full stop in front of her, the stable boy took their horses. ”Queen Daenerys Stormborn of the House Targaryen, First of Her Name, the Unburnt, Queen of the Andals and the First Men, Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, Breaker of Chains, and Mother of Dragons.”

  
She nodded making eye contact with the queen. _Titles don't make one a ruler._ Blue and violet were about to merge if the women hadn't scraped her throat and continued on.

  
“Tyrion Lannister, hand of the queen.”

  
A part of her expected the warden of the North to introduce her but of course that wasn't the case. “Lady Sansa Stark,” Brienne announced. _Thank you Brienne._

  
The guests looked surprised seeing Brienne as she stepped out of the shadows her armor making her look more intimidating than she actually was, _once you earned her trust._

  
“Your grace, my lord the journey must've tired you out. I have the kitchens prepare a meal,” she said softly her voice filled with no emotion. _Do not give in Sansa, he'll win. He is dead eaten by dogs. He’ll win._ Perhaps she had a new monster to worry about.

  
She closed her eyes for a second as she turned around leading the way to the great hall. The snow crunched underneath their steps as they silently followed her. _Observe, listen, that's the only way you'll survive._ Jon walked with ease being brought up in the North certainly helped with that, so did the knight and the hand. The two women however took every step carefully, not showing it of course. But she heard it from the way their steps sounded timid in the snow that protected Winterfell like a blanket.

  
Old Nan once told a story about how the Gods felt remorseful for the creatures in the North as the cold came and froze them up, the warmth only coming for so long. They decided to create snow, beauty that fell from the sky and landed gracefully in the North. Protecting it from the dangers of the cold. Once men saw the snow they would know Winter was on its way. She had been the only one willing to listen to Old Nan, the boys hated her stories with passion, and Arya wanted to fit in with the boys. Sansa was the only one who was willing to listen, she had always enjoyed the idea of Knights, princes, and princesses out there.

  
_Stop it you silly girl._

  
The smile that ghosted on her lips remembering Old Nan disappeared as fast as it came as she continued on. They made it into the Great Hall and she thanked all the kitchen maids for already having the food brought in. Saving the small conversations that would have happened.

  
Earlier in the day she had instructed that there be no table higher than the other and all the food should be placed on the table in the middle, specifically a round table. Arya had questioned why to which she replied,’So they understand we're equals.’

  
She felt guilty for keeping Arya, and Bran’s reunion with Jon on pause. However she had the permission from both her siblings to do so. Bran was easier to convince than Arya, _the mother of dragons can't know his weaknesses._

  
As they all sat down, she felt a glance that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. She knew right away that her former king was staring at her but she did not pay him any attention as she sat down next to lord Tyrion and Brienne. The queen sat next to Tyrion and beside _her_ king? Beside him the girl who had introduced them and beside her the knight, who sat next to Brienne.

  
She saw the dragon queen had questions but kept her mouth shut. They all dined in silence. She slowly observed all, she knew Tyrion craved more wine, so did the knight. The girl on the other hand seemed reluctant to eat, like she didn't know if she was allowed to. The queen herself had an emotionless face and Sansa could sense her slowly looking at the great hall from beneath her lashes.

  
_Chaos is a ladder._

  
She and Brienne were the first to be finished. “Excuse me, but I wish to retire. I bid you all a good night, Podrick will take you to your chambers once you are all finished up,” she stood up straight and gracefully gestured Podrick out of the shadows. She turned around and walked out slowly with no care in the world, Brienne on her heels.

  
The minute she was out she heard whispers from behind the big oak door. _War strategies?_

  
“My lady what do you think of the queen?” Brienne asked subtly. The thing about Brienne was that she was one of the only true friends Sansa had left, ever had for that matter.

  
“Truthfully Brienne?” Brienne nodded stopping in front of her chambers. “She seems like one angry lady to me.”

  
Brienne smiled,”I agree with that my lady,” she opened the door to Sansa’s chambers and bid her goodnight.

  
Once inside she looked at her reflection in the mirror, instead of seeing herself staring at her she saw a whole other person. _‘Clean hands, Sansa. Whatever you do, make sure your hands are clean.’_ There he was staring at her the glint in his eyes that told her that he knew something. She couldn't end up like him. She wouldn't.

  
She looked at ~~her~~ his reflection. _You are dead, Arya cut your throat. This is me you're messing with. Sansa Stark, Lady of Winterfell, the fire that will never ever keep you warm._

  
And suddenly his reflection disappeared and hers came back. Her blue eyes had a spark. She smiled mischievously as her gaze intensified. If the warden of the North wanted to fight the war with fire she would give him fire. Or something even better, ice.

Whispers had been carried with the wind through Westeros, the Queen of Ice had met the Queen of fire.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I might add more.


End file.
